


Private Concert

by reeby10



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sgareversebang, First Kiss, M/M, Piano, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/pseuds/reeby10
Summary: John hears piano music from a supposedly empty part of the city and goes to investigate. He wasn't expecting Rodney to be the one playing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[Art] Composition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525251) by [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz). 



> My first time doing SGA Reverse Bang! My fic didn't get as long as I would have liked, in large part bc I signed up for too many things all due at the same time, but I'm happy with it. Thanks to Biff for the beta.
> 
> Thank you so much to Nonexistenz for the lovely art that inspired this fic <3 You can view the art [on AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10525251) or [on tumblr](http://nonexistenz.tumblr.com/post/159128085792%20).

John could hear piano music coming from somewhere up ahead. He’d thought he was heading into one of the still empty areas of the city, needing some space after returning from a briefing at SGC, so hearing music was kind of… strange. Especially since he was pretty sure it wasn’t just some pre recorded crap, though the sound was a little muffled like it was coming through a closed door.

He crept along the corridor, listening carefully as the music got loud and louder as he got closer. It only took him a minute to find the door and he stopped beside it, wondering if he should open it or just leave whoever it was to their playing. But the music sounded so sad and wistful, tugging at his heartstrings in a way he wasn’t sure music ever had, and he just had to know who was playing.

With a thought, he got Atlantis to open the room, keeping the whoosh of the door as quiet as was possible with any door in this city. He peeked around the doorway and froze, a little stunned. He wasn’t entirely sure who he thought he’d see in there, but the man he saw wouldn’t have even been in his top ten guesses.

The large room was dim, the only lights those right above the grand piano. The piano itself, positioned right in the center, was the only thing in the room. While that wasn’t too strange for an unexplored part of the city, what was strange was the player. Rodney sat on the piano bench, hands moving dramatically, eyes seemingly closed. The music, though, was still mellow and yearning, somehow at odds with the man playing.

Despite the opening of the door, the music continued without a pause and Rodney didn’t do so much as turn his head from where it was bowed over the keys, so John thought it was safe enough to slip inside. The door slid shut behind him as quietly as it had opened and he sent a brief mental thank you to the city.

Since it didn’t look like Rodney was going to stop playing anytime soon and John really didn’t want to interrupt him, John leaned up against the wall near the door to wait, arms crossed. In the room, the music was even better, even more heart wrenching than before. It kind of made John wish he’d stayed outside because he wasn’t used to feeling anything like this because of some music, at least from anyone other than Johnny Cash. Even then, he wasn’t sure it had ever gotten so deep under his skin so quickly. It was enough to make him more than a little uncomfortable.

When the music finally ended, the silence of the room seemed to ring with it. Rodney just stopped, drooping over the keys like his strings had been cut and playing had been the only thing keeping him mostly upright. There was a moment of silence, then John started clapping. That was what you did when a concert ended, right? Even if it wasn’t a concert he’d actually been invited to.

Rodney jerked around at the first clap, eyes going wide when he saw who else was in the room with him. He almost overbalanced with the movement, arms flailing wildly as he tried to stay seated. John moved forward quickly, instinctively reaching out to steady Rodney, to keep him safe like he always did. That seemed to shake Rodney out of his shock, making him frown as he resituated himself on the bench.

“What are you doing here?” Rodney snapped. He was glaring, but there was also a peculiar flush on his cheeks.

John shrugged. “I heard the music and came to see what was going on,” he said. “Wasn’t really expecting you to be playing. Or for there to be a piano to play here at all, for that matter.”

“I had it brought in a week ago,” Rodney said, which really didn’t answer most of the questions John hadn’t bothered to ask. But he’d probably ramble himself around to those eventually. “I, uh, thought since we were stuck on earth for the foreseeable future I could try playing again. Well, just messing around, really. I used to take lessons when I was a kid, you know.”

“Didn’t know that,” John said, wondering why Rodney’d never talked about it before. “Why’d you stop?”

“The teacher said I lacked soul,” Rodney answered with a bitter snort and a vague wave of his hand. “That I should just quit because I was too analytical and would never be one of the greats. I quit that day and hadn’t played again. Until today.”

His face morphed into something sadder, and John suddenly realized why the music had been so melancholy. Rodney had been told he wasn’t good, and for Rodney that was as good as a death sentence. He was amazing at everything he did, he made sure of that, and to be told something like that by his teacher when he was just a kid…

John felt a surge of anger for this person he’d never met, never would meet. How dare they shoot down Rodney like that? From what he’d just heard, even years later, Rodney _was_ great. His music was wonderful and heartfelt. Maybe it wasn’t technically perfect, John wouldn’t know anything about that, but he certainly had the soul for it, no matter what that teacher said.

“It was beautiful.”

The words popped out of his mouth before he could really think to hold them back. It wasn’t something he’d usually allow himself to say. He wouldn’t have said if he wasn’t so angry, and usually, he had more control. But looking at the way Rodney’s face lit up with fragile hope, cheeks flushing even darker, John knew he couldn’t take it back. Nor did he really want to, because whatever he might have wanted to say instead, it was true.

“It was… I really liked it,” John said, ducking his head a little as the words almost stuck in his throat. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, the remains of his anger and the sudden need for Rodney to know he was appreciated warring with one another. “Your teacher was full of shit.”

Rodney’s mouth opened and closed a few times without a sound emerging, and John felt an unconscious smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. He never tired of seeing Rodney looking so flabbergasted.

“Huh. It really sounded good?” Rodney asked after a moment, voice far smaller than normal. It was like he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe John. And John couldn’t have that.

“Really good, buddy,” John confirmed with a nod, reaching out to pat Rodney companionably on the shoulder. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind hearing more. You know, if you want.”

Rodney nodded enthusiastically, face starting to brighten. Good. “Sure, sure. Any requests?”

“Got any Johnny Cash?” John asked with a grin.

“Of course you would,” Rodney snorted, rolling his eyes so hard John thought he might strain something. But Rodney didn’t say anything else, just turned back to face the piano, flexing his fingers for a moment before lowering them down to the keys.

The opening strains of _Hurt_ began to fill the room, somehow even more melancholy than the original. It was like John could feel it echoing in his very bones, filling the room and going right through him. This, he thought a little dazed, was the way you were supposed to listen to music. Letting it consume you.

He turned to look at Rodney and saw the other man bent over the piano again, eyes closed as he rocked back and forth just the tiniest bit. He seemed as lost in the music as John felt, maybe even more so than he had earlier. John was sure Rodney wouldn’t have chosen to play something like this on his own, but he was doing it for John and it was amazing.

This wasn’t the first time that John thought he might be a little bit in love with his best friend. Seeing Rodney like this, hearing him play, tugged at some feeling deep inside of him that he tried to keep buried so as not to make things awkward or ruin their friendship. This was just… different somehow. More, maybe.

John leaned over without even thinking and kissed Rodney.

  
  


The lips below his were a little chapped, but soft and warm and perfect. He didn’t allow himself to think as he pressed forward, eyes fluttering shut at finally, _finally_ doing this. Rodney seemed frozen for only a second, the room ringing with sudden silence, before he returned the kiss, and John felt a rush of relief that Rodney hadn’t just freaked out or pushed him away.

John lifted a hand to cup Rodney’s face, tangling his fingers in the short hair behind Rodney’s ear. Rodney gasped a little, mouth opening, and suddenly the kiss was wetter and hotter and deeper. It made John shift closer on the bench, wanting to be closer, and Rodney seemed to like that idea as well, judging by the groan he let out when John pressed up against his side. The bench was really too small of a place for them to do this, but for now it would work.

They pulled apart slowly, breath coming hard like they’d just taken a morning run with Ronon, and John rested his forehead against Rodney’s. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times before he could focus on Rodney’s face so close to his own. Rodney’s eyes were glazed looking and there was a high flush on his cheeks that had a smile tugging at John’s lips. He’d done that, he’d put that look on Rodney’s face.

“So, uh, that was was unexpected,” Rodney finally said, because it was impossible for him stay quiet for too long. John just let out a huff that was half agreement, half amusement. “Not that it wasn’t great! Because it was. Really good. Wonderful, even, if I was picking adjectives.”

“Glad it met your expectations,” John drawled.

He stopped, a frown forming between his brows as he suddenly wondered if Rodney _had_ had expectations for this. He’d never said anything, but then again, neither had John. Not that he hadn’t had his reasons for that, especially with how much Rodney talked about women and all the times he’d almost gotten engaged, but still.

Rodney snorted. “More like blew them away. I should have known you’d be an amazing kisser.”

“I’m an amazing kisser?” John asked, pulling back a bit to raise his eyebrows. His heart was beating faster again, something like happiness blossoming in the pit of his stomach at Rodney’s words. “Why, Rodney, you flatter me.”

“Did I say amazing?” Rodney said, looking flustered. His eyes darted around like he was looking for an escape from the teasing, so John just put his hands on Rodney’s waist, holding him in place. “I meant to say you’re a pain. And a terrible kisser to boot.”

“Uh huh,” John agreed amiably, grinning. He leaned in, nuzzling against Rodney’s nose and letting their scruff scrape together in a way that sent a shiver up his spine. “I guess I should get some more practice then.”

“Oh. Yes, yes, I think that would be good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit welcome. If you like my fic, feel free to come hit me up [on tumblr](http://voldiebuns.tumblr.com/)!


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